


the day

by phyripo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phyripo/pseuds/phyripo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is a crappy rapture,” Tuomi said. “I’d thought I’d be in hell by now.”</p><p>Einar looked up. “Maybe this is hell,” he said plaintively.</p><p>“Maybe it is,” Tuomi agreed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the day

**Author's Note:**

> This suddenly happened. I was going to write something else but this appeared instead.
> 
> It is a fusion (or an alternate universe crossover, that would work) with the amazing webcomic [Stand Still Stay Silent](http://www.sssscomic.com/), which I highly recommend (there's some body horror and stuff, but man the art is gorgeous and aaaaaAA I love it), but I don't think you need to have read that to understand this thing. I mean, I have, so I don't really know, but I think it's pretty clear.
> 
> Title after The Day by Sonata Arctica. A nice apocalyptic song, even if the apocalypse sung about is different than this one.
> 
> (Einar is Norway and Tuomi is Finland. Egil is quite obviously Iceland.)

_Year 0, day 3_

“Denmark closed its borders,” Tuomi announced, waltzing into the room with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

Einar looked up from his work. “What?”

“Denmark. Closed the borders,” Tuomi repeated. He kicked his boots off, but kept his coat on. “They’re suspending traffic across the Öresund Bridge today and prohibiting all water traffic.”

First Iceland and now Denmark? “It’s getting serious.”

Tuomi nodded and flopped down on the tiny couch. “I don’t like it.”

Einar didn’t like it either.

“Reckon Finland will close the borders anytime soon?”

“Not if Sweden doesn’t.” Einar shifted, leaning over the back of his chair to look at Tuomi. “Do you think it’s necessary? No one’s died, right?”

He shrugged noncommittally. The resident cat, that neither of them knew the origins of, crawled out from her usual hiding place under the couch to jump on Tuomi’s legs, and he scratched her behind the ears absentmindedly.

“And in any case,” Einar continued, “we’re safe here. Safer than we’d both be at home, I’d guess.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still.” He shook his head. “I don’t like knowing so little.”

It was really their own fault for taking up this job. They knew they’d be stuck here, on this tiny island in the middle of Lake Saimaa, for a while. Einar was just afraid, with all this closing borders business going on, that maybe he would have to stay in Finland instead of going back home to Norway for far longer than he had anticipated – until this all blew over. _If it did_ , his traitorous mind added. He didn’t want to think like that. This disease everyone was so worried about was harmless, they had said so on the radio just yesterday. None of the eleven original patients had died, and precautions against further infections were in place.

“How’s your brother?” Tuomi asked, now scratching the cat’s stomach. The animal was remarkably well-behaved.

“Egil’s fine. Stuck in Iceland, but I guess that’s as good a place to be as any.”

“Probably better.” He smiled a little. “It’ll all be alright.”

Yes, it probably would be.

 

_Year 0, day 10_

All was definitely not alright.

Einar and Tuomi had lost contact with the shore yesterday – that is to say, the radio was still working, but no one was answering. Tuomi was anxious, wanted to go out and see what was happening outside their tiny, isolated observation post, but Einar had stopped him. Something told him they wouldn’t like what they found.

Egil had sent his last message thus far the day before that, saying that he was still fine, and although Einar knew he was safer in Iceland than they were here, he was worried about him. Tuomi, who translated the Finnish news broadcasts into Swedish for him, had relayed the message that the previously deemed innocent disease was spreading fast, and had claimed the lives of all the original eleven patients already. More would likely follow.

There hadn’t been a radio broadcast today. Neither of them said anything about it, but Einar was afraid there wouldn’t be one for the foreseeable future.

They kept up their work, if only to have something to do.

 

_Year 0, day 13_

“Einar! _Einar_ , come listen!”

Einar hurried out of the cabin to where Tuomi was crouched near the shore, with their little radio pressed to his ear and a manic grin on his face.

“What is it?” Einar asked, hopeful yet not wanting to hope. They hadn’t heard from other people since the last radio broadcast, four days ago. Even Egil had remained worryingly silent.

“It’s working! There’s people broadcasting!”

“What do they say?”

He listened intently. “Something about how the end has come? It’s not professional, but I’m just glad to hear that there’s at least—”

Someone else alive beyond this island, Einar finished when Tuomi didn’t. It did feel like they were alone in the world sometimes. Oftentimes. It was unbelievable how quick something like that could go.

“They’re calling it the rapture now.” He sighed. “Bullshit.”

“Hm, I thought there would be more people ascending to heaven if it were.”

Tuomi actually snorted a laugh. “Not me, I’m going to hell.”

That made Einar smile, too.

 

_Year 0, day 21_

Einar received another message from Egil. Reception was spotty, so he wasn’t sure when it had been sent, but it still loosened the anxious knot in his chest a little bit, knowing that his little brother was okay.

“We’re running low on supplies,” Tuomi said, coming outside carrying ‘their’ cat. He set her on the ground. “We’re either going to have to go to the shore or start catching fish. And I’ll be honest with you, if I see one more can of pineapples I’m going to commit mutiny.”

“True, true.” Einar held his hand out to the cat absentmindedly, and she pushed her soft head into it. He sighed as Tuomi sank down next to him, looking out over the lake. Their breath clouded in the cooling air. Winter was approaching fast. Einar didn’t look forward to being here when the real cold struck, but he feared it was preferable to the alternative.

“So, what are we going to do? Risk going ashore or eat fish with pineapples for the coming weeks?”

Einar looked at the man he’d come to think of as a friend, instead of just a colleague. He looked tired, worn-out. He was worried too, Einar knew. His parents were out there somewhere, and he hadn’t heard from them at all. Einar, at least, knew his only family was safe, healthy.

“I think we can take a look. Maybe it’s all blown over already and they just forgot about us.”

He didn’t believe that, and he could see that Tuomi didn’t, either, but a little hope wasn’t bad, was it?

 

_Year 0, day 25_

There had been no one on-shore, everything looking like it had been abandoned in a hurry, and no one had answered their radio call. They had found a dog, obviously dead for a while. It had had that disease, a rash of sorts. It looked horrifying. Tuomi had wanted to bury it, but eventually agreed they had no way of knowing how dangerous it was to touch it, so they had unceremoniously thrown some branches and things on top of it.

There had been messages in Russian, sent days prior, and although neither of them understood the language, the tone was clear enough. People were asking for help, desperately trying to find a safe place. Somewhere the disease couldn’t get to them.

The storage had been half-empty. There were other people out on the lakes, Einar knew this even if they hadn’t seen them since they started their assignment what seemed like years ago but was only a month. They had probably taken those things. Tuomi and Einar took as much as they could of the rest. Now was not the time to be considerate.

They had agreed to go back to the safety of their cabin, even if that meant eating canned pineapples and dried meat for the rest of the winter. Possibly the rest of their lives.

However long those lasted.

 

_Year 0, day 34_

“This is a crappy rapture,” Tuomi said. “I’d thought I’d be in hell by now.”

Einar looked up. He was writing down everything he could think of that might be of use to anyone in the future, in every language that he knew. Like a diary of sorts, or a log. He didn’t want to think of why he was doing it.

“Maybe this is hell,” he said plaintively.

“Maybe it is,” Tuomi agreed.

 

_Year 0, day 39_

It had started snowing. A hint of Tuomi’s previously so characteristic cheerfulness came out when he saw it, and they built a snowman for lack of something better to do, then huddled up in front of their meager fire.

“You know,” Tuomi said, “I think the cat needs a name.”

“The cat?” Einar looked down at the animal in question, curled up in a ball close to the fire. “Maybe, yeah. Do you have suggestions?”

He shuffled a bit, pressing himself and his body warmth closer against Einar, which was nice. “I was thinking about Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce.”

“You what?”

“Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce!” He looked up at Einar, laughing for the first time in a while.

“She’s a cat.”

He laughed again. “So she is. I have – I had? – a dog, you know. Back home in Helsinki? Her name’s Bloody Flower Egg.” His smile dissipated.

“I’m—”

“I made myself sad,” Tuomi said. His fingers twisted into the fabric of Einar’s pants – the pants he’d been wearing for the past week. Washing had long ceased to be a priority, although they had kept on brushing their teeth because they had an abundance of toothbrushes and toothpaste for some reason, and it felt nice to have that, at least.

Einar wished he could do something to make his friend feel better, but he’d never been good at things like that. Egil could probably attest to that.

Egil probably thought he was dead.

He just rested his chin on the man’s head and wrapped his arms around him.

They woke up like that the next morning, the cold seeping underneath the door but not reaching their little cocoon of warmth. Wordlessly, they agreed to start sharing a bed.

 

_Year 0, day 50_

Einar had started having strange dreams. There were monsters in them, distorted figures that might once have been human, calling for help in Finnish and Swedish and Norwegian and languages he didn’t know, all the while killing innocent people and infecting yet more with their illness – the rash. Their eyes were always empty. Einar was tempted to call them zombies, but it never seemed quite right. He recognized one of them, once. An old friend, now nothing more than another nightmare.

He usually woke up shaking, with Tuomi’s arms around him, rubbing his back gently. Sometimes he would notice that his cheeks were wet, and he’d bury his face in Tuomi’s shirt and refuse to look up at him. The dreams terrified Einar. They felt too real.

Once, he caught a glimpse of his brother. He wasn’t one of the monsters, he was just… There. Walking by. Just out of Einar’s reach.

When he woke up this time, he felt almost happy. He was sure, somehow, that Egil was safe.

“Are you okay?” he heard Tuomi whisper, and he turned his face up with a small smile.

“Better.”

Tuomi looked down at him in wonder, then kissed his forehead.

“Good.”

 

_Year 0, day 62_

A boat drifted by on the lake. Einar looked at it for a long while, idly hoping its passengers would come out to greet him and take him and Tuomi and Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce to a safe place. Or, well, a nice place. They were already safe here.

Unsurprisingly, there was no indication that anyone was on the boat – or _alive_ on the boat, in any case. Einar sighed and went back to chopping wood.

 

_Year 0, day 68_

The dreams didn’t go away. Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce seemed to notice somehow, and sometimes when they got bad, she would paw at Einar’s face until he woke. Usually, Tuomi would soothe him with meaningless murmurs and gently rocking arms. At times, he kissed Einar’s forehead, or the back of his neck, or whatever he could reach at the time. They didn’t talk about those moments. It was just nice to have contact with someone else.

Still, both Tuomi and Einar had strong personalities, and while they agreed about many things, there was tension sometimes. Small annoyances piled up with no outlet for them. However, they were also quiet people so they never said anything. Perhaps that was why, when it did come to a head, it was pretty nasty.

Tuomi had once again proposed to go ashore, if only to see if anyone would answer a radio call. Einar, terrified because of those dreams that felt too real, didn’t want to leave the isolated safety of their island, and Tuomi snapped.

“Fine! Then I’ll go, and you can fucking die here, for all I care!” His violet-blue eyes were clouded over with anger, the pallor of his skin turning red. “Eat your fucking pineapples and hide from your nightmares like a baby. I need to know what’s out there!”

“There’s nothin’ out there!” Einar yelled back. “Everyone is infected or dead or—” A monster, he wanted to say, because he knew with startling clarity that there _were_ monsters out there, that that was what the rash did to you if it didn’t kill you.

Tuomi threw a block of wood down, startling Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce. She hissed angrily.

“My _parents_ are out there, Einar! I don’t want to believe they’re dead, not until I can see—”

“ _You don’t want to see them_.” An image flashed before his eyes – monstrous, once-human figures, and although he had never met Tuomi’s parents, he knew it was them. “You don’t, believe me.”

He practically growled. “What, because you _dreamed_ about it? Fuck _off_ , Einar! You just can’t accept that your brother is dead and that we’re going to fucking die here if we don’t do something!”

“Egil is _not_ dead!” He couldn’t be. He wasn’t.

Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce was hiding underneath the couch.

“Egil has probably been dead for a month and the sooner you—”

Einar snapped. He saw red, and the next thing he knew was that he was pushing Tuomi up against the wall, a hand around his throat while Tuomi clawed at the sleeve of his coat, trying to loosen his grasp.

“ _My brother is alive_ ,” he hissed. Tuomi struggled to breathe in his grip. Both of them had lost a lot of energy and weight over the past two months, but Einar still had a slight advantage over the Finn. He looked down at him, at the dark circles under his eyes, his shaggy, unwashed hair and the halfheartedly shaven stubble on his face, and let go abruptly, then walked to his own, lately unused, bedroom without looking back.

He pretended not to hear Tuomi cursing at him.

 

_Year 0, day 72_

Contrary to what he had said, Tuomi didn’t leave, but he and Einar did avoid each other as much as they could in the limited space they had. The lack of human contact, especially at night, meant that there was more space in Einar’s mind for other things. Worries, mainly, because what if Tuomi had been right, what if Egil _was_ dead or infected and the dreams were just that; dreams? What if he was just slowly driving himself insane by staying here?

He talked to himself in Norwegian, because he missed hearing his own language spoken. It was a small thing, in the grand scheme, but it made him feel better and worse simultaneously. He felt more at home, but he also felt farther from home than ever.

How were his sparse friends in Norway doing? Were any of them still alive?

Were there actually monsters?

He saw Egil in a dream again, and this time Egil saw him too, but before they had the chance to talk, his brother vanished from existence. It did little for his peace of mind.

Einar was inside, looking through their dwindling supply of canned goods for the umpteenth time, when he heard a gunshot from close by. He shot up, the first thought that ran through his mind _what if Tuomi decided he’d rather die than stay here_ , followed by a string of panicked cursing as he ran outside, not bothering to right his toppled chair.

Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce was hissing very loudly at something.

“Tuomi!” Einar shouted, and he saw the man appear from behind a tree, rifle shaking in his grip. Einar felt relieved for a second, but then it sunk in how horrified Tuomi looked, and the panic surged again.

“You were right,” Tuomi whispered, his voice shaking as much as his hands. Einar carefully took the rifle from him. “You were _right_ , Einar.”

“About what?” No, no no no, not _that_. Anything but that.

He looked up. “The monsters are real.”

 

_Year 0, day 73_

It had, at some point, been a seal, but it was barely recognizable as such now. The rash had torn its skin apart, and its bones were set at odd angles, protruding like claws. The most horrible, though, were its eyes – or rather, the complete lack of eyes. By all accounts, it should have been dead. Yet it had been moving up on the shore until Tuomi had shot it. Einar didn’t want to look at the thing for too long – he was actually afraid he might throw up – so he pushed it back into the water with a long branch, watching as its horrifyingly distorted form slid through the last remaining snow while Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce hissed behind him.

Tuomi was still shocked. They had slept in the same bed again, and he had curled his entire body around Einar as if he were afraid he’d vanish.

When Einar returned to the cabin, the cat jumped up on Tuomi’s legs as he sat on the couch silently. He smiled a wobbly smile at her.

“She spotted that thing first, you know,” he told Einar, scratching Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce’s head. “Started hissing like crazy when it came up on the shore.”

Einar sat down next to him heavily. “I’m glad she did.”

They sat in silence for a while, and then Einar sighed.

“I’m sorry. For losing my temper.”

Tuomi looked up at him, seemingly surprised. That was justified, Einar supposed – he wasn’t an apologetic person by nature – but it still stung a little. Then, the Finn drew him into a bone-crushing hug, which caused Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce to jump off of his legs and Einar to gasp as the air was squeezed from his lungs.

“I’m sorry for saying that about your brother,” Tuomi mumbled into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, you were right all along.”

Einar wrapped his arms around him, and they held each other silently.

 

_Year 0, day 80_

“Einar!” Tuomi sounded excited, so Einar hurried outside to find him crouched by the shore where he tried to find a radio connection once in a while, a useless habit, Einar had thought. However, maybe he could hear something now. That would be the best news he had heard in a while.

“What?”

He gestured him over. “Radio! It’s a Russian, but he’s speaking English as well.”

“And what’s being said?”

“Come listen.”

So Einar crouched next to him and listened intently.

“… _no answer from the Baltic countries’ capitols, and Moscow remains silent. Little is known about other areas in the world. Once again, let me remind you to be careful. Please do not hesitate when you are faced with a rash victim. Either run or shoot – or stab, whatever you can do – even if it is a loved one. They are no longer the person you once knew. Find a safe place if you can. Do not be picky. Take care of each other. This is Ivan Braginsky from Pravdino._ ”

The radio went back to emitting its familiar static noise, and however much Tuomi twisted the dials, the man’s voice didn’t come back. Einar eventually stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“At least we know there are still people out there,” he said.

Tuomi put the radio down and leaned slightly on the barrel of the rifle, which he’d taken to carrying around everywhere. “And monsters. _People_ that have become monsters. What the fuck kind of disease is this?”

“Punishment, from the gods.” Einar was only half-joking, but Tuomi smiled a little anyway, though there was little mirth in it. His dimples had disappeared with the roundness of his cheeks, but Einar imagined they were still there, which, for some reason, made him smile as well.

“ _Really_ crappy rapture.”

 

_Year 0, day 96_

They only had enough food left for ten days, maximum. By now, they were both afraid to go ashore, but they couldn’t survive on fish alone, and there was no way in hell they were going to eat Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce, end of the known world or not, so they were going to have to go out there, where much more terrifying things than a seal probably waited.

“Or,” Tuomi said, studying their map, “we could go further up the lake instead.” He traced a finger over the many islands. “There must be other people somewhere.”

“But in what state, and would they welcome us?”

Tuomi slumped forward. “I don’t know.”

Einar rubbed a thumb over the man’s exposed neck. They had both cut their hair yesterday. It felt very light. It felt like leaving something behind – something more intangible than hair.

“I say we go to the mainland. We avoid the cities.”

“And then?” Tuomi asked, face still on the map.

“Then…” Einar didn’t know. What he wanted most of all was to look for his brother in Iceland, but that was highly unrealistic. He would probably never see Egil again. “We see what happens. We’ve got each other, at the very least, and Mostly Red Pineapple Sauce.”

The cat meowed, as if she understood she was being talked about. Einar curled his whole hand around Tuomi’s neck as the man sat up straight and looked up at him.

“Whether we die here or out there,” Einar said, “does it make a difference?”

Tuomi leaned over to him, put a hand on his shoulder and touched their foreheads together. They stayed like that for a moment.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” Tuomi said.

 

_Year 39_

_From the Finnish archives_

_Excerpt of a log kept by Norwegian citizen Einar Thomassen, found on an observation post in Lake Saimaa, translated from Swedish_

Day 100

(…) We’re leaving the island today. We have no real hopes of finding a safe place, but there is nothing left for us here. We are taking as much necessities as we can, but I have decided to leave this book here. If anyone else uses this cabin, they are free to add to it.

I don’t know if I will ever be back. I don’t know if I will ever see Norway again. I don’t know if I’ll live for a day when we leave. The world has become more scary and unpredictable than it was before, and quite frankly, I’m terrified.

To whomever reads this: I hope you may find this useful in some way. Take care of yourself.

To Egil Thomassen, my brother: Stay safe in Iceland. Build a home there if you can. Perhaps I’ll see you again someday.

To Tuomi Väinämöinen: You were the best person to have around all this time, I couldn’t have wished for anyone better. Thank you for your kindness and your faith. I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry about the pineapples.


End file.
